[WEST COASTING] Although the Mother Hips are primarily a jam band, prone to the uglier tendencies of the breed during their fitful two decades together, they display a certain stylish diffidence upon matters of career and expanded musical territories, including shimmering choruses and post-surf-rock tinges surveying a broader Californian sound than their Deadened peers. This has garnered the Hips their share of appreciative tastemaker nods. Make no mistake, though, the Chico quartet cater to the NorCal gentry and likeminded Aquarian elites across the country. Despite persistent rumors of recording new material, the Mother Hips haven't released anything beyond increasingly grand retrospectives since their seventh album, Pacific Dust, three years ago. Still, they manage to charge, with straight faces, three figures for VIP passes (invite to soundcheck, post-show drink, snazzy laminate) to their hometown holiday show. If the hippies ain't broke, no need to fix things.